The End of the Rainbow
by Taidhe
Summary: Shonen ai 4+3, blink and you'll miss it. Quatre is tempted by the oldest Sidhe of them all... my best fic written, I do believe.


Quatre and Duo walked side by side through the wood. Sunlight sparkled through the elms and maples, and goldenrod and ferns waved in the warm breeze that danced through the trees. Dark green pines grew intertwined with drooping willows, and hummocks of fluffy grass exuded their fresh hay scent, mixing with that of damp mossy rocks, so that the smell of "forest" permeated everything. Birds warbled, squirrels chittered, and deer watched the two boys from deep inside their thorny thickets.  
  
They walked silently, both enjoying the woods in their own way. Coming to a small stream that crossed the path, Quatre hopped over in a single step. Duo stooped first, and drank deeply of the crystal water he scooped into his palms. Standing back up, he wiped his hands on his pants and spoke.  
  
"You know, the locals have a legend about this forest." The sound echoed wrongly through the trees, but Quatre was interested.  
  
"Really? What is it?" he asked curiously.  
  
"They say that to walk in this woods is to invite doom, especially just after a rain." Duo stated solemnly.  
  
"After rain? Shouldn't it be after dark?" Quatre interrupted.  
  
"Hush, I'll explain. Dark is actually the safest time. They say that here in this woods lies the end of the rainbow, and that should one step through that end, they would be transported to Tir nan 'Og, Land of the Faerie, with no hope of ever returning. And that a fey creature, perhaps a dryad, perhaps a nymph, also inhabits these woods, whose goal is to tempt as many as she can through the portal." Duo took a breath, and Quatre interrupted again.  
  
"But knowing this, couldn't any man avoid the trap?" he asked. Breath taken, Duo continued.  
  
"I was getting to that. Apparently, she knows what each man, or woman, marked most desires. By marked, I mean that some are destined for it and nothing can stop them from leaving this reality, not even their own good intentions. They find themselves drawn back, over and over, until she finally tempts them through." Duo's voice had dropped to a whisper, and he grabbed his braid and wound it around his arm, protecting it from the rising breeze that flapped his clothes.  
  
"Do they have a name for Her? What is she like?" Quatre asked, fascinated. "And where does She come from?"  
  
"They say no one knows her real name, but her formal title is 'Eldest of the Young'. Or rather, in the olde tongue, Fla' So'la Gha(1). She was the first of the Faerie to be given a duty, that of guarding this forest and it's precious portal. All of her descendants, proud of their lineage, also took on a duty, becoming the dryads, naiads, and sylphs of the world. She knows everything that goes on in the forest, and the winds deign to be her ears." Duo stopped to give the ever-playful air around them a sardonic look, then continued. "She is tall and slender, with deep green and brown eyes, long blond hair and a complexion of milk. Her hands and feet are bare and calloused, and she clothes herself in the finest silks, gifts of the villagers. Duo finished up. They were approaching the end of the wood, so it was just as well. Quatre was silent, and thoughtful. Taking in a last picturesque scene of the forest, with it's sunbeams and moss, sounds and scent, he stepped out and hurried after Duo. But not without a final backward glance.  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre chatted calmly through dinner, washing up and tidying the house afterwards. Only when he was finally climbing under the covers of his bed did he allow himself to think about that last backward glance.  
  
He had seen Her! Who else could it have been? Something had prickled on the back of his neck, he had turned his head, and there She was! Not as tall, true, but certainly slender. Long white-gold locks tumbling free in the wind, feet planted in the earth as though grown from it, hands white against dark brown bark, long slender fingers that merged with the lines and form of the tree. And her eyes. Her eyes! Circles of brown within circles of green. The green was leafy and fresh, sparkling with invitation, a perfect contrast to the dark and mysterious depths of the hazel rings. Even in imagination, they drew him in, farther and farther, until he felt like he was gasping for air. He closed his eyes, trying in vain to shut out the beauteous, addictive vision. It only drew him on faster. Now he was tumbling into her pupils, the depthless, all-encompassing blackness surrounding him, suffocating him, he couldn't breathe.  
  
  
  
WHAM!  
  
  
  
Quatre unceremoniously fell out of his bed, hitting the floor like a ton of bricks. Tangled, damp sheets, contorted covers, and misplaced pillows gave mute evidence to his struggle. Had he yelled? Quatre glanced at the slumbering roommate in the bed across the room and decided not. Good.  
  
He had to go see Her. Now. Completely disregarding the cold sweat standing on his skin, the bad taste in his mouth, and the lank, damp strands of hair hanging in his eyes, Quatre shrugged on a shirt and carefully stepped into a pair of boots. He slowly opened the door and carefully stepped down the hall. The first step on the stairs creaked under his slight weight.  
  
In a bedroom, a pair of eyes snapped open.  
  
Quatre finished the stairs and stepped out into the downstairs hall.  
  
A pair of hands reached up and brushed away a brown lock of hair, then finished tying up a pair of boots.  
  
Quatre gracefully skirted the kitchen table, and reached for the doorknob.  
  
A black-clad shadow glided silently down the stairs.  
  
The grass shffed softly in response to Quatre's passage, though it remained silent for his pursuer, and Quatre never noticed him.  
  
The moon was ¾ full and well over the horizon. It cast a deathly pallor over the forest. Every branch was inky black, and every stone was cast in sharp relief. The chill wind rose as the moon hit sun-colored hair and bleached it bone white. Heedless of rattling branches and tearing thorns, Quatre rushed on. He jumped over the brook, which now somberly burbled as though afraid of discovery, disappearing silently into the brush. *Where to go, where to go? She's here somewhere. * Quatre almost screamed his frustration. Then, he knew. It was the only place a rainbow would land, what better place for her to take her repose? For such perfection would never sleep.  
  
Quatre slowed, and advanced respectfully toward a clump of rowan trees. A small clearing of moss and grass surrounded the grove, and at it's beginning, he paused, then continued. Stepping carefully over small rocks and weeds, he reached out a hesitant arm and bushed aside a slender leafy branch.  
  
"Greetings Quatre. I trust your journey was not difficult?" a mellifluous voice greeted him, soothing and sonorous. Quatre gaped. She was as beautiful as he remembered, as shining as the moon. Her very presence gave color to her surroundings. He stammered for a moment, and then his training took over.  
  
"Fla' So'la Gha, I greet you." Quatre said reverently, accompanying it with a graceful bow. When he looked up, she was watching him. His breath caught as he met her eyes. They reflected something, something that made him. complete. Was it love? Trust? Acceptance? Empathy? It didn't matter. Her perfection was such that his confidence swelled in her presence. He entered her bower and kneeled, studying his surroundings.  
  
Gauzy silks in rainbow colors floated from each limb, catching the moonlight and glowing. Silver cords caught each veil, anchoring it to trees and causing an eerie underwater effect. Velvet pillows filled with goose down haphazardly covered the ground, interspersed with soft mossy hills.  
  
"Quatre." Quatre's head snapped back to Her at the sound of his name. Her eyes held something supremely regretful, serious. "You have to go now. I can't function in the night. Come to me at dawn, if you wish. And come immediately after rain, always. Promise?" Her wistful question could not have been refused by the hardest of hearts, and her eyes seemed to rise up and envelope him.  
  
"Of course, my lady. Always and forever." Quatre assured her. She rose demurely, and the clouds on the moon parted and struck her with a brilliant beam of moonlight. Quatre blinked, and. she as gone!  
  
Almost, almost Quatre called out for her. But he knew she would not answer, and he turned and left as silently as he came.  
  
* * *  
  
Every morning, Quatre visited Her at dawn, and every morning he was followed, for nearly a week. She and Quatre talked of many things, like love, and trust, literature, and other random topics. No missions had come in, for which Quatre was thankful, but. certain moments throughout the week stuck in his memory.  
  
["Hey Quatre, look at this cool stuff on the 'net I found about faerie legends. They have an entire section dedicated to rainbows - I know you were interested, want to take a look?" Duo said cheerfully. Or was it.knowingly? Knowingly as in "you were so interested, you went looking for Her, didn't you? I knew it!" Quatre looked at him hard - *does he know? *  
  
Sure, Duo, maybe later." Quatre said blankly, and walked away. He could feel Duo's gaze all the way down the hall.]  
  
[Trowa walked in through the back door and poured himself some coffee. Quatre jumped - he thought that everyone was still in bed. Bits of grass and droplets of dew on Trowa's pants gave evidence that he had been walking in the fields, though it was 4:30 AM.  
  
"Out so early, Trowa? I thought everyone was still 'a bed." Quatre casually remarked. Trowa just looked at him. Quatre had an eerie sense that Trowa knew everything he had tried to hide. From behind his tea cup, Quatre gulped, then made an excuse and hurried away.]  
  
[Over dinner, Duo pestered Quatre with questions.  
  
"So, Quatre, what do you think She really looks like?" Duo asked a bit *too* cheerfully.  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine." He replied non-commitally.  
  
"Okay then, where would the rainbow land in the forest?"  
  
"How would I know?"  
  
"What do you suppose She decorates her haven like?"  
  
"Like a girl, I would guess."  
  
"I wonder how she would feel about "The Hobbit" or "Dune" or some other random books." Duo persisted.  
  
Quatre treated that with the blank look such a random question deserved. But inside, he quaked. How had Duo known what their last discussion had been about? He excused himself, said he was tired, and went to bed early.]  
  
* * *  
  
*Just stop thinking about it* Quatre told himself. He leaned his head against the cool windowpane of his bedroom, then curled up in the window seat. Closing his eyes, trying to control his breathing, Quatre slowly fell asleep.  
  
He didn't know how long he napped, but when he woke, it was to the soft tap of water against the glass pane. Quatre's eyes shot open, and he bolted up. Come immediately after rain, always. It was as though She, The Eldest of the Young, spoke the words in his ear once again. He jumped off the window seat and paced around the room, shoving on his boots and throwing on a coat. Nervously, he checked his laptop, then closed it and placed his gun on top. He half ran to the window, checking the rain, then rushed to the door to check the hall. One thought permeated his being, *Go, go, go now, she waits, go, go, go now.* Quatre tried to wait; he paced back to the window. Was that a lightening of the clouds? Maybe the rain wasn't beating down as hard? Quatre could wait no longer. He sprinted through the door, down the hall, around the kitchen table, and left the screen door swinging. He reached the woods just before the first ray of sunshine.  
  
The rest of the woods passed in a blur and Quatre found himself standing at the edge of the meadow as though teleported. Where a once magnificent grove of rowan trees had once stood, now stood an equally beauteous, misty portal of all the shimmering spectrum - The End of the Rainbow. Quatre could almost see Her ensconced in the stripe of brilliant yellow. He rushed forward, slowed just before the final step. The translucent colors beckoned him with all the knowledge of the world. Quatre tensed himself for the final step, and  
  
"NO!"  
  
A voice, one syllable, echoed for an instant, then dropped away as though it had never been. Quatre, for one moment, for one fatal instant, hesitated. And in that hesitation, he lost his chance evermore.  
  
The rainbow's end dissipated and revealed the empty, barren grove. Gone! Gone forever! With a strangled sob, Quatre wheeled on the source, intending. he didn't know what he intended. But what he saw.  
  
Trowa. Tall and slender, long brown-gold locks brushing his face, feet planted in the earth as though grown from it, hands white against dark brown bark, long slender fingers that merged with the lines and form of the tree. And his eyes. deep circles of green, leafy and fresh, echoing sadness so resolute Quatre froze. Hazel bangs dropped across his face, adding contrast and shadow. The depthless pupils drew him in, drew him on, until Quatre stood quivering in front of Trowa, like a tamed beast, their eyes still locked. But this time, Quatre didn't feel like he was drowning.  
  
He felt like he was flying.  
  
  
  
(1) The Elder of Youth. I found out later, via my *wonderful* beta, Becky, that my made-up faerie actually exists (Though, perhaps not as a rainbow guard). She provided the Gaelic translation, with help from her grandparents. 


End file.
